Take Me Home TPJD
by Chooboo
Summary: A story of Hollywood Undead and Nine Lives. The Producer/J-Dog Smut. Rated Mature Jorel Decker/Aron Erlichman Hollywood Undead Ninelives


Jorel gasped and exhaled as he reached in his back pocket to find emptiness. He left his wallet at home, damn it. The whole point of coming to this bar was to get as wasted as possible because of his girlfriend-now ex-breaking up with him. He whined as he plopped down at the bar. _Oh, well,_ he thought. _Don't need money to flirt. But it's almost etiquette to buy someone you're flirting with a drink. No money, no giving drinks, no scoring a date._

He groaned, almost getting up from the bar stool until a voice stopped him. Although the voice wasn't directed towards Jorel, just the sound of that particular voice made Jorel clench his fist in anger. He looked behind him to see what he knew he was going to see, his ex-bandmate (and ex-best friend) drunk off of his ass and talking drunkenly to a bunch of guys who possibly were as drunk as Aron was. Jorel almost hissed at Aron and it took all of his might to not stand up and confront the man; instead, he did just the opposite. He put on sunglasses. Usually people do that when they don't want someone to recognize them. Jordan, obviously, couldn't do that. Jordan mixed with sunglasses is a dead giveaway. He listen close to Aron and he could hear the drunken man talk crap about Jorel's band, _again_.

"And the bitches fired meh! How could they fuckin' do that?!" Aron was shouting. The men were nodding their heads in agreement to Aron's argument, although they just might be nodding in a drunken stupor for Aron to just shut up and leave. Either way, it was pissing Jorel off.

"I didn' even do anythin'. Those fuckin' assholes," Aron continued, not even directing his comments to the men as he left the group. The men looked relieved when Aron left, but Jorel's heartbeat began to rise as Aron began to make his way over to him.

_If he sits beside me, I'll strangle him._ Jorel thought hatefully as Aron waddled towards his way, getting closer and closer. Aron usually wasn't a messy drunk unless he got _really_ wasted, but the way he was stumbling towards Jorel told Jorel that the man was completely fucked up. He was actually concerned if he had a ride home. He sighed as he hoped that Aron had a ride because he'll be damned if he let his feelings for his old friend get the better of him. He's still pissed off at him.

Damn it. Aron plopped down in the bar stool beside Jorel and Jorel almost cursed aloud. All he could do was just look away from the man and maybe sneak off without Aron even realizing he was there. He was just about to do that when suddenly Aron cleared his throat. Jorel froze, but he suddenly wondered why he did freeze. Maybe it was because whenever Aron cleared his throat back when he was still in Hollywood Undead, it meant he had something important to say and Jorel would stop what he was doing to listen. Why is he doing that now?

"Hello," Aron said quaintly. Jorel froze and sighed, deciding there was no way out of this. He turned to look at Aron with a frown. Aron's eyes said it all, but there was a stupid smile that crossed his face that made Jorel want to beat the living shit out of him.

"'eyyyy! Do I know you somewhere?! You look so familiar, dude, I can't put a finger on it, though. Did I have sex with you? You've looked like someone I have had or would have sex with," Aron was laughing at his little joke like an idiot and Jorel curled his fingers up into a tight fist. He just wanted to punch Aron right then and there, but he controlled his inner dog and calmed himself. He didn't say anything to Aron except a light smile and a shrug.

"Name's Aron, call me Deuce," he said as he put out a hand. Jorel looked at the hand and actually pondered on whether he was going to shake it or not. He finally did, which made Aron smile like a fucking cartoon.

_Is your name Deuce because you're so full of shit?_ Jorel smiled inwardly as he own joke.

"What's your name?" Aron asked.

"Jay."

"Like a Blue Jay? Awesome. Reminds me of one of my old friends," Aron began. Jorel gritted his teeth, almost quietly daring Aron to start talking shit again, but it didn't happen. Instead, Aron began crying. He was fucking...crying. Jorel finally stopped the small talk.

"Dude, are you okay? Why the hell are you crying?"

Aron sighed, trying to contain his crying. He was never the one who could really control his outbursts while drunk, but he tried his best. "I had a friend who isn't my friend anymore, but he promised he would always be my friend. I miss him. His name was Jorel."

Jorel fell silent as he let the words soak in. Aron was actually hurt by that? Jorel figured he was hurt because he wasn't apart of a band he created-or he lost his image. Never this. He never thought Aron actually cared enough to dwell on their dead friendship. Then again, Aron can't even recognize Jorel when he's talking right to him, actually.. How could he care so much?

Oh, wait.

Jorel realized he was wearing the shades. He took the sunglasses off and looked at Aron again who gasped. They stared at each other for a silent moment, almost exchanging nonverbal conversation with their eyes. Aron's eyes showed anxiousness and panic, almost.

"Shit. SHIT," he slurred as he got up from the bar to leave. Jorel didn't even realize, _himself_, of what he was doing when he went after the man.

"Aron, wait!" he called out.

"No! Fuck. You shouldn' have heard that. Please, go away," Aron said calmly, never looking back at Jorel. The italian took his hand and placed it on Aron's shoulder.

"Deuce. Stop. You're really drunk; you could get yourself hurt out here," Jorel calmly stated. Aron shrugged off Jorel's hand and huffed, but actually stopped. Jorel cleared his throat before beginning to talk again. "Did-did you mean what you said? About...how you miss me?" He tried to lead Aron outside where it was much quieter.

Aron sighed, trying to regain his thoughts. He stood there, shifting his weight from side to side. Jorel actually thought the man was going to lose balance and fall, but he managed to not do it. With another sigh, Aron finally said, "Y-yes. Of coursthe I di-did. I miss you s-s-tho much, J-Jay. You don't know how much I r-eally do missth you. I think about you ever-y night." Aron always sounded funny when drunk as he tried to control his natural lisp that he had. When he's sober, it's not that noticeable. However, when drunk, he can't control it at all.

Jorel's frown grew into a soft smile when he heard Aron's confession, but mostly because couldn't help but think how cute Aron was.. He was glad that he felt the same way-of course Jorel was mad at Aron for talking shit, but the man was still his friend. He was glad that he didn't have to hate him.

"You know, you're not that much of a dick, now that I think about it."

"Thanksth." Aron replied monotonously as he crossed his arms.

"Do you have a ride?" Jorel asked, remembering he still had his car here. Maybe it was a good thing he forgot his wallet. Trying to manage a drunken Aron while drunk, yourself? Not a good combination. It always led to disaster.

"Gonna hail a cab."

"I'll take you home," Jorel said. He really couldn't believe what he was doing, but he didn't stop himself. He just began to lead Aron towards his car until the drunken man refused.

"No, Jay, cut it out. I'm fine. I don't need you to tell the guysth of how you had to take care of my drunken assth asth if I were a baby."

Jorel was almost laughing at Aron's speech. "I'm not like you. Get the fuck in the car and shut up, now, okay?" Aron finally obeyed, but wasn't happy about it. He crossed his arms like a two year old and pouted, grumbling about something Jorel didn't catch. "Stop your whining. Where do you live?"

"Take a right at the stoplight and keep going."

Jorel was happy Aron never really moved away. He knew where his house was. It also became a good thing because Aron passed out almost immediately when they went on the road.

As they continued onward, Jorel decided to play some of his songs through the speakers so he pulled up "Miss the Misery" by Halestorm.

That's when Aron woke up in almost a flurry. "WHAT. I LOVE THIS SONG. HOLY SHIT, JOREL."

Jorel couldn't help but laugh at Aron's outburst. It was obvious that he was still drunk as he loudly began to sing the lyrics to the song. It was almost annoying, but Jorel didn't stop the man from having his fun. Actually, it reminded Jorel of the old times they had together, obnoxiously singing songs and purposely messing up the lyrics to get on the guys' nerves. He smiled as he looked at Aron who was singing while looking out the window like some sort of mesmerized child.

Jorel almost forgotten how far Aron's house was in relation to the bar. Jorel especially became anxious when he saw his gas light come on. Fuck, he forgot to get gas and now they were out in the middle of nowhere, trying to get Aron's ass home. He almost growled at himself for being so nice, but Aron stopped him.

"Hey, I can pay you back tomorrow. It'sth late anyway. You sthouldn't be driving out thisth late anyway. Okay?" Aron had this stupid smile on his face as he looked at Jorel smugly.

Jorel didn't really understand where Aron was going at, but he didn't say anything. He also brushed off Aron's face that was directed towards him. As long as he will get paid back, he couldn't really complain.

Finally, Jorel turned onto Aron's road. It was really dark and he somewhat forgot which house was Aron's, so he concentrated very hard to find it; so much so, he didn't even really notice that Aron began playing with Jorel's belt, undoing it. He also began to pull on the zipper and button to undo those as well. Jorel didn't notice which caused Aron to smile.

Finally, Jorel found Aron's house, but he yelped loudly at the sudden friction against his groin. He put on his brakes harshly, while turning into Aron's driveway to look down and see Aron palming him through his open pants.

"What the fuck, Deuce?!" Jorel yelled, almost pushing Aron out of the car, until the drunken man stopped him with a lip lock. It caught Jorel by surprise, but he didn't react negatively. In fact, he closed his eyes and began to take in the taste of Aron; he put the car into park. They've kissed a few times before Aron was kicked out of the band, but it was just playful little pecks. Nothing like this-passion being tied into the kiss as Aron's tongue began to lick around Jorel's lips, begging for entrance. Sadly, it wasn't given. That is when Jorel pushed Aron off of him. "I'm gonna say this again: what the fuck, Deuce?!"

Aron only smiled stupidly as he kissed Jorel's cheek. "Dude, I've got a boner. What are you gonna do about it?"

Jorel felt fury weld up in his veins as he then stormed out of his own car, fly undone and everything, and went to the passenger side to pull Aron out.

"You want me, you know it, Jorel!" Aron was yelling and laughing as if this was all some big joke. Jorel growled as he placed Aron on his steps and almost walked back to the car to leave him there until Aron grabbed at Jorel's ankle.

"Get off of me, you fucking-"

"Joreelllll," Aron whined with a smile. "Come on, Jorellllll. You know you want to. I can see that tent in your pantsth that you want to," Aron was singing. Jorel blushed a the man's observation and desperately tried to button himself back up until Aron was attacking his face again with lips and kisses. "Plusth it's late, Jorel. You don't have gasth and you don't know where my money is to go get some more."

"I'll buy my own gas, now please get off of me-" Jorel was interrupted with a kiss once more and he huffed through his nose in frustration.

"Please, don't leave me, Jorel," Aron continued when the kiss was over. "I've already lost you before, please, I don't wanna lose you again." Jorel noticed his lisp was lightening up, indicating that Aron's sobering up. This caught Jorel by surprise because Aron was saying that as he was sobering up, not in a drunken phase.

With a sigh of defeat, Jorel nodded. "Fine. Only until morning, though."

Aron squealed with excitement as he ran up the stairs to his porch and began to search for his key to unlock the door. The door flew open and Aron grabbed Jorel by his collar and practically dragged the man in.

"I've missed you so much, Jorel," Aron said, leaving kisses on Jorel's neck. The other man groaned in pleasure, but also In grief. He didn't want to do this, but almost every fiber in his body was screaming for him to do this; take Aron as he was and just _destroy _him.

"Aron, we don't need to do this," Jorel sighed. Aron laughed.

"Oh, I think we do. I see that tent in your pants, you dog, don't pretend that you don't love this."

Jorel hissed at Aron's words, especially when when the other began to palm Jorel once more, kissing him. He groaned, realizing there was absolutely no way out of this. He pulled Aron off of him and looked at the other man.

"Ooooh, I see those eyes dark with pure wanting, Jorel. Do you want me?"

"P-please." Jorel finally gave, taking Aron and pushing him on his fluffy couch. The latter laughed and pulled Jorel close to kiss him.

"I knew you wanted it, puppy," Aron nipped playfully at Jorel's lobe, admiring his gauges happily. "You're so hot," he moaned softly, causing Jorel to shudder.

Jorel wrapped a single hand around Aron's throat, pressing lightly. He smiled as Aron made almost a weeping noise. "You keeping me here means you do all of the work."

"I-I intend to..."

Jorel smiled and chuckled. Aron definitely was sober and he actually knew what he was doing. This is when Jorel took the time to lean in and kiss Aron deeply, biting his lips playfully and licking all over. "I'm gonna tell you what you're gonna do to me tonight; are you listening?"

Aron shakily nodded.

"You're gonna get on your knees like the little cockslut you are and take as much of me as you can handle. I'll determine if it's good enough. Then after you deep throat me, you are gonna ride my dick until you make me cum so hard, I'll fucking scream your name and see stars. If I don't do that, guess who's gonna try it again until I do?"

Aron moaned at the words and nodded. "M-me..."

"That's right my fucking beautiful slut. You put me in the mood now, it's your job to finish it."

"And wh-what about me?"

Jorel grinned evilly before he kissed Aron once again. "Don't worry about that. I got you."

"P-please fuck me."

Jorel laughed before slamming Aron onto his knees. "Not yet. Suck it, bitch."

Aron whimpered but nodded as he began to finally take Jorel's undone pants off along with his boxers and-

"Holy shit..."

"Do you regret doing this now?" Jorel laughed as he gave himself a nice steady stroke to almost show off what what he was packing. Aron moaned but shook his head "no" and eagerly wrapped his lips around the head causing Jorel to moan. "Yeah, my little whore, suck that dick."

Aron eagerly complied as he began to try and take more of Jorel. He cupped Jorel's balls and began to rub in circular motions so much so that Jorel moaned out Aron's name. "Oh, fuck, yeah, just like that, you little whore. You like that dick, baby?"

Aron nodded, looking up at Jorel. Jorel's pupils were blown out in lust, a smug smile crossing his face. Aron tried to lightly take more of Jorel in until suddenly, pain shot through his body as Jorel tried to thrust in. Aron squeaked, tears forming in his eyes as he looked up at Jorel whose eyes were rolled back in pleasure.

"Aw, fuck, your little throat is so tight. You think all that singing would help it loosen a bit," Jorel moaned, desperately trying to gain friction in Aron's tight throat. Aron gagged, whimpering a bit, causing Jorel to pull out.

"What? Too much already, baby?" he asked, a smug look covering his face.

Aron slowly nodded, whimpering like a little puppy. "Please, Jorel. Pleaseeeee."

"What, baby?" Jorel asked, stroking his length. He looked into Aron's eyes deeply and chuckled when he saw the latter's cheeks light up, trying so hard to not meet Jorel's eyes.

"I want you! Give it to me-" Aron's plea was cut off from Jorel smacking him. Aron was so shocked, his face still looked in the same direction of which Jorel slapped him; he felt his left cheek begin to heat up and he bit his lip in almost embarrassment as he realized he's been dominated.

"What did I say?" Jorel growled, a smirk playing his voice. Aron whimpered a reply, but didn't say any words. Instead, he began to suck Jorel off again, earning him a moan. "Good puppy," Jorel laughed, playfully ruffling Aron's hair as if he were a boy.

He decided to get back at Jorel. Sure, he liked to be fucked by a strong man with a sizable dick, but he was never used to the whole "being dominated" thing. He inwardly smiled as he suddenly began to deepthroat Jorel as best as he could and actually, he was doing fantastic. "Holy fuck!" Jorel squeaked out suddenly, his voice going at least an octave higher than what he should've been. Jorel instinctively grabbed Aron, fisting his hair and pulling a bit. Obviously Aron caught him by surprised doing that. His inward smiled grew devilishly as he began to try and go deeper, almost bottoming Jorel out in his throat. He prayed Jorel wouldn't start thrusting like the dog he was; Aron was afraid he was going to throw up.

Jorel didn't, however; he just exhaled heavily, his fist still tight in Aron's raven hair. That was until he felt the _amazing_ swirling tongue against his shaft and he gasped, cursing loudly.

"Shit, Aron!" he yelled as he pulled out of the man, trying not to touch himself. "Fuck, you almost made me cum, holy shit." Aron smiled until Jorel smacked him again. "Fuck, I said take me as much as _you_ can handle. Not fucking make me almost jizz myself."

"You're complaining?" Aron asked, his smile never going away. He was actually beginning to like Jorel smacking him. It felt...nice.

"Get the fuck over here," Jorel growled as he pulled Aron up to his level, kissing him deeply. Aron moaned so girlishly that it made Jorel smile against his lips.

"Does my baby want me to fuck him?" Jorel asked.

"God, _please_."

"Beg for me. Beg for me like a little puppy."

Aron whined as Jorel set Aron to his knees again. Aron looked up at his lover and gulped. "Please, Jorel."

"You call that begging? Are you sure you want to fuck a dog like me? If so, you gotta know how to _beg_."

Aron whined again before he got on his hands as well as his knees to look up at Jorel again. "Please, fuck me. Please. I want your dick to fill me up so much so that I forget how to think, fuck, that i forget how to _breathe_. Take me, Jorel! Please!"

"Is this the same man that has been talking so much shit about my crew? Look at you now. On your knees for me."

"Fuck, JOREL!"

Jorel smirked. "Where's the lube and condom?"

"It's fucking-both are in the fucking cabinet under my sink in the bathroom-God, Jorel, you've broken me," Aron whined as he desperately rubbing himself against his jeans. Jorel smirked.

"Your clothes better be off before I get back in here. If they aren't, you'll be sorry."

Aron took heed to the warning as he frantically began to pry off his skinny jeans and his tank top as Jorel left the room. He's so worked that that he actually stumbles a couple of times because he's so fretful of Jorel coming back and he's not naked. He made it, however; now standing in his own living room, hard and horney out of his mind so much so that he began to work his hand on his dick.

"Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?" Jorel asked. The sudden voice made Aron jump with anticipation. He gulped as he saw Jorel's naked, tatted body, almost making him drool.

"You're fucking perfect…" Aron complimented. Jorel just chuckled a small thanks before grabbing Aron in a heavy kiss, nipping at his lips.

"You aren't bad yourself, gorgeous. Now bend over and grab your ankles, slut."

Aron moaned at the demand and did so, presenting himself to Jorel who was by far impressed. "Damn, you're cute," Jorel said. Aron blushed and smiled.

"Wait, I thought you were gonna make me do the work," he said.

"No this fucking ass is _mine_ to claim," Jorel answered as he began to run his fingers through the K-Y Jelly. With no warning, he stuck a finger in causing Aron to yelp. Jorel smiled at how easy it was to slide his finger in and out. "You bottom often? You should keep it that way."

"Fuck you," Aron moaned. Then slammed another finger in there, curling his finger to where Aron began to fidget and moan desperately.

"I'll let that one slide."

"Fuck me, Jorel, I can't-I can't-I need you fucking now," he writhed against Jorel's fingers and the latter decided he was prepped enough.

"You think you can take me, bitch?"

"If you don't fuck me, I'll bite your dick off."

"Geesh, calm down, Mr. Needy," Jorel said.

He finally began to press his head into Aron who began to moan like a total pornstar. "Oh yeah, keep going, fill me up…"

"You slut," Jorel laughed as he slammed into Aron, bottoming himself out in the man immediately. Aron squealed in pleasure, squirming under Jorel desperately.

"Move, you dog!" Aron yelled, almost angrily.

"You're a fucking _power_ bottom, aren't you?" Jorel stated, but granting his lover's wish by pounding into Aron as hard as he could, angling each thrust to try and get a good reaction out of Aron.

Aron was fucking falling apart from Jorel's movements. He was vocal too; his wordless moans mixed in with attempts of trying to say something, but then failing.

"Jor-ah! Fuck-please-oh, shit!" Aron wrapped his hand around his dick until Jorel bit his shoulder, causing him to scream.

"No hands, bitch. Take it."

Aron whined as Jorel slammed his face into the carpeted floor, taking his wrists behind his back. "No, please, I'm close!"

Jorel didn't answer him except with more angled movements and deep, hard thrust. Aron's voice began to become a higher pitch, something Jorel never heard unless the man was singing. "Damn, Aron," he moaned.

"Please, I need to-oh, fuck, Jorel. Jorel, fucking right there don't-stop-" his sentences became broken as Jorel finally found that perfect spot that caused Aron to forget how to speak. There was no friction to Aron's dick that he desperately needed until finally Jorel's strong hand took a firm grasp and began to pump him violently in rhythm to his thrusts.

"Oh, FUCK YES, JOREL!" Aron screamed as he came in thick spurts. The seed splashed against the carpet and even got some on Jorel's fingers when he pulled his hand away.

"My fucking slut, cumming for me-so hot," Jorel brokenly spoke, almost trying to talk himself into his orgasm by seeing Aron break under him.

Aron squealed and moaned as Jorel continued to hit that spot, overstimulation kicking him. "Fuck, Jorel!"

"Almost there," Jorel gasped as he suddenly tipped over the edge, shooting his load into the condom. He wished it wasn't there so that load could've been shot deep within his lover to claim him and make him as his own.

"Shit, Jorel," Aron laughed. He sounded drunk again which caused Jorel to smile.

"So-are we a thing now?" Jorel asked. He no longer sounded dominate or overpowering. His voice was soft and almost even hopeful. Aron looked at him and smiled.

"Yeah. Guess so, my puppy."


End file.
